


Intervention

by fmpsimon



Series: FFXV Week 4 2017 [5]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Drabble, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Promptis - Freeform, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 13:51:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11830050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fmpsimon/pseuds/fmpsimon
Summary: Gladio and Ignis are getting sick of it: all the high-fives, slaps on the back, and especially the hugging.  It's time to tell Prompto to stop.





	Intervention

**Author's Note:**

> This is the dumbest thing I've ever written. Hopefully someone gets some enjoyment out of it, though.

                "Here he comes," Gladio says, nodding to the blonde as Prompto bounces out of the diner, an energy drink in one hand and a burger in the other.  Gladio glances around at the others.  "Okay, who's gonna tell him?"

            Noctis yawns.  " _You're_ the one with the big issue.  I don't really care."  He gives them both a blank stare; frankly, he'd rather be taking a nap then taking part in this weird intervention.

            "It needs to stop," Gladio says, his cheeks flushed in anger and embarrassment.  "He's always...touching me, and it makes me uncomfortable."  He shifts in his chair, crossing his arms.

            "It _is_ a little distracting," Ignis says, taking a sip of his Ebony coffee.

                Noctis rolls his eyes.  “What’s wrong with a little hugging?  It’s kinda nice…” he trails off at the weird looks he’s getting from the other two.  “What?” he demands defensively.  “It reminds me of home, okay?”

                Ignis sets his Ebony down.  “It’s a little unprofessional is all.  We don’t have time for all of these high-fives and hugs mid-battle, when we’re fighting for our lives.”

            "Shh!  Here he is!" Gladio says a little too loudly.

            Prompto stops.  Every eye is on him right now.  "What's...going on...guys?" he asks, then wipes his mouth off on the back of his hand.  His eyes flick from person to person, each gaze making him feel more and more uncomfortable.  "Okay, seriously, this is weirding me out.  What's going on?"

            "Have a seat, Prompto," Ignis says, gesturing towards the empty chair.  Prompto sits, but hesitantly so.  Ignis clears his throat and slowly adjusts his glasses, killing time.

            Gladio glares at the bespectacled man as he sips at his coffee.  He drums his fingers on his muscular forearm, waiting impatiently for Ignis to continue, becomingly increasingly annoyed as each second passes by in silence.  "Iggy!"

            "Hm?" Ignis says, turning his head.

            Gladio nods his head obviously towards Prompto.  "Are you gonna start or what?"

            Ignis sighs and sets his coffee down back down.  Prompto frantically looks around at each of them, people he had assumed were his friends.  Were they kicking him out?  Were they going to leave him behind?  He glances over Gladio's shoulder and finds little comfort in the fact that his bags are not thrown outside...yet.  "Lately, Prompto, some of your behavior has been...hm, how do I put this?"

            "Annoying," Gladio interrupts.  "You're annoying us, blondie.  You already talk _way_ too much—which I can handle—but now you're doing way too much... _hugging_."  The word comes out of Gladio's mouth as if tastes disgusting.  He grimaces.  Just saying it feels gross.

                Prompto is speechless.  He’s… _hugging_...too much?  _What_?!  “I don’t get it,” Prompto says.  “You don’t like being hugged?”

                “No, no, we _like_ hugs,” Ignis explains.  “Just—“

                “Just not all the time,” Gladio interrupts, glaring at Ignis, who has turned a deep shade of red in his consternation.  “Just because you brought down one daemon, doesn’t mean you take a time out to hug—there’s probably another one right around the corner!  There’s time to celebrate _after_ the battle’s over.”  His eyes are hard as he stares at Prompto.  He has to be firm.  He has to make himself absolutely clear.  “Besides, not _everyone_ likes to be touched like that.  It’s girly.  And weird,” he adds, just for good measure.  That should be enough.

                Prompto puts on a brave face.  “Oh.  Okay.  I guess I can…stop, if that’s what you guys want.”  He looks at them all, then quickly averts his eyes.  Noctis notices his gaze lingers the longest on him, as if to say, _even you_?  And that bothers him.  But what bothers him more is the way that Prompto goes into the camper after Gladio and Ignis try to smooth everything over, his burger and drink lying on the table, forgotten.

                He gets up and follows Prompto without a word to the other two.  He gently closes the door behind him and climbs up the steps.  Prompto is on one of the bunk beds, staring at the floor.  Noctis wonders if he even knows he’s here.  “Prom,” he says softly.  “Prompto,” he repeats when he gets no response.

                Prompto glances up.  “Oh, hey, Noct.”  He flashes him a bright smile.  Noctis has seen that smile before; it’s a lie.

                Noctis sighs loudly and sits down next to the blonde.  “Y’know, Gladio can be a real dick sometimes.”  That doesn’t get much of a response from Prompto, which Noctis takes as absolute agreement.  “He’s stubborn and he can’t say anything delicately.  I know because…usually I’m on the receiving end of these talks.  I should’ve stood up for you in front of everyone.”  He faces Prompto.  “I’m sorry I didn’t.”

                “Nah, it’s stupid,” Prompto says dismissively.  “The guys are right—it’s not professional and I definitely shouldn’t do that in the middle of a fight.  That’s just downright stupid.”  He acts like everything is fine, but Noctis knows better.  How could he not?  He’s known Prompto for five years now.  He’s seen him at his best and his worst.  “I don’t have a problem stopping.  It’s no big deal.  It’s not like I _need_ to hug.  I just thought it was kind of nice—you guys are like family—”

                Noctis suddenly wraps his arms around Prompto, enveloping him in a warm, tight embrace.  He cups the back of Prompto’s neck, pulling him close, and buries his face in his shoulder.  “They _are_ nice,” he murmurs.  Prompto finally hugs him back and he feels warm all over.

                Prompto smiles into his shoulder.  “Maybe you and me could…?”

                “Uh-huh,” Noctis says.  Prompto smiles wider and melts into the embrace.

                Gladio folds his arms, standing in front of the window with Ignis.  The blinds inside were wide open, and he couldn’t help but watch, his lips pursed.  The wind picked up, giving him chills at the back of his neck.  “You’re a little jealous, aren’t you?” Ignis says, eyeing him.

                Gladio frowns—pouts, really.  “Yeah,” he grunts.


End file.
